In Which the Grass Isn't Always Greener
by drippinghoney
Summary: [DISCONTINUED] They upset three different worlds, and started and ended a war between two of them. No one ever said love was easy. [Atobe/Ryoma, royal pair], [Read AN and continuation in "Middle Ground"]
1. Chapter 1

In Which a Demon Runs Away and an Adventure Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.

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><p>Contrary to what humans believed, Heaven and Hell weren't above and below Earth. Of course humans would think their dimension was at the center of everything, arrogant creatures that they were. No, Heaven and Hell were side by side, as all planes of existence were, like plates stacked together. Trying to say specifically which was on top and which on bottom was all a matter of perspective. Although, unfortunately for the demons that tried to dimension hop, as Heaven was the origin of all angels, fallen or otherwise, it was in the middle of the planes of Hell and Earth, separating them. Not that many demons were all that eager to go to Earth, but there were the few that were curious enough to want a peek of the fabled humans, most having not seen a glimpse in all their long lives. Humans after all, were the stuff of textbooks. They were agreed upon and scientifically proven to exist, but as far as demons were concerned, they were not their problem.<p>

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><p>Ryoma had always wanted to visit Earth, but because of conditions he had never gotten the chance. So when the day came that Ryoma decided he needed a place to escape, his previous wish to visit Earth resurfaced. Ryoma thought about it for a good five minutes, (brooded actually), before he decided it was as good a time as any, and began packing a bag.<p>

Getting through the portal was also much easier than he expected. He chatted up the demon on guard, who was someone he knew and actually liked, and casually gave him some drug-laced tea. He felt guilty about it, but by that time the guard was already asleep and Ryoma couldn't go back.

It was as he was passing through the portal, as he felt the tingling of his body disintegrating molecule by molecule, that Ryoma started to feel a little panic creep on him. Perhaps five minutes wasn't enough time to decide on going to another dimension? Oh, well. Mom had always told him he was too impatient.

Then, Ryoma's world dissolved in white, and he didn't think anymore.

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><p>Atobe sighed what seemed like his hundredth sigh that day. The other angels lounging around him asked him if he was feeling alright, would he like something to drink, and so on, but he waved away their concerns, and stood up with a snap of his fingers. "Kabaji, come. I need some air," Atobe ordered. To the lackeys, he told them to continue to relax while he took a walk. Lower-ranked and mindless as they were, an Atobe was nothing without manners. As his father as taught him.<p>

Outside, without interruption and Kabaji being the blissfully silent companion he always was, Atobe lost himself in his thoughts. His father, as one of the Council members, had left today for the annual Assembly, perhaps the most famous. It was not the most important assembly by any means; no, the truly significant assemblies happened at secret times unknown to most angels, although Atobe knew, since Atobe was no mere common angel. This assembly however, was definitely the most famous, and the most televised. At this moment in the capital city, angels were probably flocking the Grey Tower, which held the Council's impressively large assembly room, and the Council members were smiling pretty for the cameras, their families in tow and looking so damn proud and happy, the bright-eyed children to the glowing mothers. Usually Atobe would have accompanied his mother and father to the Assembly, because it was one of the few that were filmed, but he had gotten into an argument with his father the day before they were to leave and had decided not to go. It was the first time since he had gotten sick with the bird flu as a child that he hadn't gone to the Assembly. Atobe didn't regret his absence from the Assembly, but he did regret the quarrel with his father.

"I am going to have to apologize to him, aren't I?" Atobe murmured. Beside him, Kabaji's eyes flashed with understanding, but he didn't say anything.

Atobe's face suddenly steeled, and he stopped walking to proclaim, "But Father will have to apologize to me first, because what I said was not wrong. It was not wrong. Ore-sama is never wrong, right, Kabaji?"

"Usu."

"That's right, ore-sama is never wrong. Never…." Atobe trailed off and then sighed. He amended quietly, "No, that's a lie. I can be wrong, not that often, thank goodness, but it can happen. Just not this time." He frowned, troubled, as he continued walking.

"Usu," Kabaji agreed gently.

"I'm going to have to be firm on this. Like Father, I have my own principles to abide by, and I'm not a child anymore, to follow his every command," he decided.

"Usu."

"I just wish he wouldn't push me—on such a subject as marriage! Ore-sama should have the right to decide when and where he shall marry, and to who!" Atobe stopped in his tracks with a haggard look.

"Usu?" Kabaji blinked.

The young archangel ran his hand through his hair, and the pale strands fell right back into place, looking untouched. "Enough of this," Atobe said tiredly, "Kabaji, let us go back inside. Ore-sama needs a drink." Atobe then whirled around and spread his wings, over six feet of white on either side of him. "There's enough to do without brooding about family." Without waiting, he promptly took off, wings stroking powerfully behind him. It was a windless day, but Atobe still seemed to glide up to the tower. Kabaji got over his surprise and swiftly leaped up after his friend, his humongous wings spreading out in mid-leap. Like Atobe, he could leap into flight without taking a running start like lesser angels, but Kabaji relied mainly on his strength, while Atobe relied on the grace that seemed to come naturally to archangels.

Something unexpected hit them on the way in though. Atobe quickly swerved to avoid collision with another angel, who had practically torpedoed out the tower.

"Out of my way! Out of my way—oh, Lord Atobe!" The hapless messenger angel actually flipped over in the air in his rush to stop. Atobe raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth, probably to say something disdainful, but was interrupted by the angel's rambling. "Lord Atobe, it's urgent, absolutely terrible. Lord Oshitari—he calls, he's said to come. Said it's an emergency. Said it's urgent. You must go to the 204th floor immediately—there's a de…."

Atobe, already exasperated with being interrupted, didn't have any patience for rambling. As soon as the messenger mentioned the 204th floor though, Atobe's eyes widened, and for a good reason. The 204th floor was lowest floor of the Atobe Tower, below ground as deep as angels dared to go. Angels being creatures of air disliked being underground, which for an angel was akin to being trapped in an earthy grave. Therefore, the last four floors of the Atobe Tower, which held the most discreet business, were actually below ground, ground floor being the 200th floor. The 204th floor was the most covert floor, and had only one purpose that Atobe knew of.

Atobe wasted no time, and flew into the tower, leaving the messenger still squawking behind him. Atobe decided to take a shortcut and flapping his wings hard for a good burst of speed, dived straight into one of the windows at the side of the tower. Window entry these days was disapproved of, seen as uncouth and ungraceful more than anything, but this was an emergency. Atobe knew that his father had secretly made the windows of the Atobe Tower just large enough to accommodate a flying angel in case of emergencies. One only needed the balance and boldness to actually fly through one, and Atobe had both. In the last few moments, he hugged his wings tight to his back so they wouldn't get snagged in the window frame.

Atobe swooped into a busy work room, filled with desk angels. Ignoring their stunned squabbling, he launched for the corridor and the skywell, which connected all the floors. Behind him, Atobe heard the crash and tinkling of glass, and smiled briefly. Kabaji must not have pulled in his wings enough.

The skywell was a long hollow cylinder that reached from the top of the tower to the bottom, and was an easy way to move from one floor to another. Atobe dodged the other angels, flying at a reckless speed when the skywell had more than a handful of busy angels. At the ground floor, the guards saw him coming and opened the locked entrance for Atobe to drop through and continue his flight to the very last floor. As usual in the last four floors of the skywell, it wasn't as busy. Today though, there were no angels at all in the skywell, and Atobe tried not to think about what that meant.

Atobe burst onto the floor, and forgetting conduct, flew down the corridor like he was a child again. His mother always scolded him for flying in the halls as a child.

The first thing he saw at the scene was the crowd of angels. Beyond, he could hear sounds of struggle, fighting, yelling. Where was security? Atobe was ready to send heads rolling. The wind caused by the flaps of his wings caused the onlookers to turn their heads towards him. Some of them recognized the Councilor's son and were calling, "Lord Atobe!" Then a figure crashed through the thickest lot of them, sending some angels into the floor. The figure flapped furiously, and although looking staggered, pushed to his feet. He must have been using all the strength in his wings because his legs looked like they were about to buckle beneath him. Security angels were quickly trickling out after him, looking the worse for wear. The figure managed to get to the air, but by then Atobe was in front of him, and everyone stopped.

It was a boy, just a boy, with the darkest wings Atobe had ever seen. Though even as they shone an interesting emerald green in the light (so they weren't black?) Atobe had a hard time focusing on anything other than the boy's wide eyed gaze, which was golden brown, glinting like amber when the light hit it right, and as wary as that of a cornered animal. Atobe realized vaguely that this was a demon he had in front of him. He was pale, dark-haired, short and thin like he'd been starved from birth; and he was just a boy.

Atobe landed silently and neatly, a few mere feet from the demon, who, for all his struggling, courageously held his ground for the moment. With all the straightforwardness of an Atobe, he said, "Who are you, child?"

There was a brief flash of irritation in the demon's eyes, and he retorted, "Who's asking?"

He sounded like just a boy too, Atobe thought briefly, and replied stiffly, "I am Atobe Keigo," he said his family name first in the style of angels, "son of the sixth Council member Lord Atobe. Again, who are you?"

This time, the demon's eyes widened. Whoever he was, he knew about Atobe's father, or maybe he just knew about the Council. Then, unexpectedly, the his lips spread in a small, but obvious smirk.

"Hehh," he drew the sound out in a simile of surprise, "So does that mean you're a prince, angel?" Immediately, a few hisses broke out from the other angels around them at the informal way Atobe was addressed, and the demon seemed to remember he was surrounded. Stiffening, the smirk dropped, but he kept his eyes on Atobe, challenging.

Atobe was confused for a split second at the demon's strange wording before he remembered that royalty still existed in Hell. "No, I am just a Council angel's son. You may call me young lord Atobe," Atobe said with a slight quirk of the lips. The demon made an expression that said plainly he would never call Atobe that if he could help it.

"So, your name?" Atobe prodded. The demon boy hesitated momentarily, and then guardedly dropped a name, watching Atobe's face all the while. Although he was uncertain if the name was fake, Atobe rolled the name in his mouth once, just to hear the foreign sound.

"Ryoma. Just Ryoma? Ore-sama's never heard that name before. It's a demon name then?" Atobe asked.

The demon's face scrunched up though. "You call yourself ore-sama? Feh, how pompous."

It seemed a few of the angels had had enough of the demon's cheekiness by that point, because multiple cries of "How dare you!" and "Such insolence to Lord Atobe!" rang out. One of the security angels took the initiative to grab the demon, who immediately started struggling and the rest of the security angels surged in.

"Stop!" Atobe ordered before it could go too far, and the security angels stopped moving, although the one hadn't let go of the demon's arms yet. Atobe leveled a look at him, "Let go of him." The angel dropped his hands, although he protested, "Young lord Atobe, he's a demon and a danger to us! He attacked us as soon as he came out of the portal!"

"No, I didn't!" the demon, Ryoma, said with a glare, "You attacked me as soon as I fell out the portal!"

"Don't lie, demon! I know what I saw!" the security angel retorted.

Ryoma opened his mouth again, but Atobe interrupted as Ryoma's words registered in his head. "Wait, boy, you said that you 'fell' out of the portal," Atobe asked.

"The name's Ryoma!" the demon hissed. Atobe flapped a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, Ore-sama knows. Back to the subject, you specifically said you fell out, did you not?"

"Yeah. So?" Ryoma said, unimpressed. He must have been a real brat in Hell, Atobe thought to himself, before he continued.

"So, Ore-sama was present last year when Demonking Echizen arrived in Heaven for the Peace Assembly, and again a few years before that. He walked through as calm as…well, a demonking. Yet, you 'fell'," Atobe emphasized, and suddenly, Ryoma twisted his mouth and looked away, a hint of pink on his pale cheeks. With a tingle of pleasant surprise, Atobe realized that Ryoma was embarrassed.

"Are you trying to make some jabs about the Fall? So what, I fell. The portal tripped me and I fell on some angel, and then this one—" Ryoma pointed at the angel that had grabbed him before, "pointed his sword in my face! Jumped on me almost as soon as I got out of the portal!" Then, Ryoma paused, eyes widening as he realized that this was what the angel lord was trying to point out.

Atobe looked smug. "You see, Ore-sama thought there was something strange about the boy attacking our guards as soon as he passed through the portal. The demons would never be stupid enough to send someone that would attack an angel in Heaven, surrounded by other angels," the angels around him murmured, and the security angels started to flutter their wings in anxiety, "Ore-sama is now sure that when our demonguest fell through the portal as he did and knocked down one of our angels by accident, hotheadedness got the better of some of the security, and our demonguest was left with no choice but to fight back. Is that not correct?" Atobe dared any angel to argue, which no one looked ready to do at that point. The security angel looked reasonably shame-faced and seemed to be trying to sink into the floor at Atobe's mocking tone and the other angels' resulting titters.

There was a slow clapping coming from behind the security angels. Atobe looked up, and out stepped Oshitari, clapping still and looking insufferably amused. Atobe crossed his arms and demanded, "Where were you all this time?"

Oshitari's glasses glinted. "Watching the show. Nicely deduced, Atobe," he praised with a slightly-condescending-but-definitely-Oshitari bow of the head. Oshitari wasn't as highly ranked as Atobe, but he was still an archangel himself, so he could get away with calling Atobe what he wished without pesky titles and such. Even if he wasn't an archangel, Atobe would have let him get away with it; he and Yuushi had known each other since they were both teenaged brats. Oshitari continued, "I was making my rounds on the floor when our unexpected visitor dropped in, and I have to say, he looked more than a little disoriented." He stepped out more, with a mutter to one of the guards to keep an eye on the portal behind him. "If I remember correctly, traveling between dimensions takes much out of the one doing the traveling. The only reason the demonking looked so composed as Atobe says he did, was because he had enough power to withstand the draining effects of being decomposed and recomposed through the portal magic, not to mention the discomfort, or even pain."

Atobe thought he heard a small mutter from Ryoma that sounded like, "Definitely pain." He looked at the demon and noted with distaste the sallowness to his face, and the way his wings drooped in exhaustion behind him, even if his body was kept in tense stillness. Then, there were the bruises and scrapes that littered his bare arms, probably from his scuffle with the security angels.

Atobe called the attention of the angels with a snap, and all heads swiveled towards him. He ordered, "Alright, if all this excitement is done, everyone will go back to work. Oshitari, clean up and make sure any more surprise guests today don't receive the same treatment that our first did today. Oh, and have a room set up with a hot bath ready by the time Demonguest Ryoma arrives at the guest floor."

Oshitari nodded, "Of course."

Ryoma eyed him warily, but Atobe told him not unkindly, "Come along, don't dawdle," and turned, walking away. He didn't know for sure if Ryoma would follow, because even though other angels listened to Atobe, this boy was a demon. Before he took a few steps though, he heard the hesitant, but then quicker, more firm steps of the demon rushing after him. Behind them, Oshitari was barking at the angels still hanging around. "What are you looking at? Get back to work, the lot of you!"

Ryoma seemed to dislike following directly behind, because he trotted faster to step beside Atobe. The young lord looked at the demon to find him eyeing suspiciously behind him, and looking back, Atobe realized Ryoma was eyeing Kabaji, who was following as diligently as always. He must have caught up and joined Atobe when he had been busy talking to the demon. Atobe smirked and said, "Don't worry about Kabaji; he is just my friend and angelservant. He goes where I go."

"Hmm," Ryoma grunted, ever the chatty demon.

"So," Atobe started conversationally, "Your name is only Ryoma? There is no second name?"

Ryoma hesitated, and said a bit too easily, "It's Horio. Ryoma Horio."

This time it was Atobe eyeing Ryoma, and the demon realized that the angel's dark-eyed gaze was intensely clear, as if it could see everything before it, including his lie. Ryoma looked away before the angel picked out the lie from his head, if he hadn't already.

Atobe narrowed his eyes, but continued easily, "Really? It doesn't exactly match you. If it is acceptable with you, Ore-sama would like to continue calling you Ryoma."

The boy shrugged. It didn't matter to him either way.

"Good," Atobe said, sounding pleased, "Now, will you reveal the purpose of this lovely visit to Heaven before Ore-sama throws you into the cages under suspicion of subterfuge?" Ryoma didn't see the slight motion of Atobe's hand, and like it was planned, Kabaji locked his massive arms around Ryoma, wings and all.

Ryoma looked shocked, and then furious. "What the—in the name of the Morning Star, you'll let me go! Let me go! Let me—" He strained with all the energy he had left in his little body, (and it looked very little in Kabaji's huge hold), and his wings twitched endlessly, but Kabaji was the strongest angel Atobe knew, so his wings folded like paper and batted as futilely against Kabaji's chest as Ryoma did.

Atobe waited until Ryoma tired himself out to a panting mess before stepping forward. He grasped the boy's chin and forced his golden gaze to meet Atobe's black. "Do you take me for a fool?" Atobe said slowly, and watched as Ryoma's dazed, tired gaze cleared. "You are a demon, an unknown one at that, who shows up with a fake name and no explanation of a sudden vacation to Heaven. No unknown demons ever appear in Heaven, and if they're unknown, they come with someone who is known. You are not dressed like royalty," Atobe motioned at Ryoma's plain tunic and pants, "but you wear clothes of the royal palace," he let go of Ryoma's chin to tap the small emblem embroidered into the collar of Ryoma's tunic. It was tiny and blended in well enough with the clothes that anyone that didn't know where it was wouldn't have noticed it. Atobe however, wasn't just anyone, and he had noticed it right away on his initial perusal of the demon.

"Your hair as well…," Atobe touched a hand to the dark strands, just then realizing that they were the same onyx of Ryoma's wings, with an identical emerald sheen. His fingers brushed almost affectionately through Ryoma's hair before settling on the right side of his head, and then Ryoma realized, ice slipping into his stomach, how frightening the Lord Atobe Keigo was. "You had a very recent haircut," Atobe said, touching at the place where Ryoma had shorn off his primseed in a hurry, the royal beads that would have outted him and his identity to anyone who knew what they meant. "Done with…what looks like a common penknife, something not normally used to cut hair, and not sharp enough. Done only on the right side, in this one spot. Now why would that be? And don't think I was the only one to notice. Anyone who knows hair probably noticed that the rest of your hair was fine, if a bit messy, while one section tufted out unattractively with split ends. It is painfully obvious," Atobe said with a sniff. Ryoma was pretty sure no one else but this angel would notice something that small and insignificant, and even realize that it actually was significant. Ryoma inwardly lamented his bad luck to fall into the custody of one of the most anally observant angels this side of Heaven. As he was cursing his luck, a finger smoothly pushed up his chin since his head had dropped, and Ryoma was reintroduced to the same observant dark gaze that had screwed him over.

"So, why don't you start talking, little demon. Tell me now. Who are you, and why are you here?" Atobe said, stone-faced and unrelenting. If his father had seen him then, he might have been proud. Atobe had taken influence from his example after all.

Ryoma gritted his teeth, but said swiftly, "I'm a servant working in the royal palace. You were right, that's why I'm wearing the palace clothes; because I live there. "

"Good, go on," Atobe allowed.

"Coming through the portal was a mistake," Ryoma licked his lips, thinking quick, "I was...exploring where I shouldn't have, found the portal, and fell through. Like I said before, I tripped," Ryoma said with an awkward shrug like he didn't like to think about the incident, and hoped he looked convincingly embarrassed, "It wasn't smart, or graceful, but that's what happened."

"And there were no guards watching the portal?" Atobe said with a skeptical tilt to his eyebrow.

"Uh, there was one," Ryoma said carefully, thinking as fast as he could. He couldn't say anything about knocking out the guard, because that revealed premeditation and killed his current cover story. He also couldn't say anything about the guard being awake and around while Ryoma took a trip across time and space because the king would have been informed immediately, and demons would've been sent across the portal no more than five minutes after Ryoma. "But he had to go on a bathroom break, and I offered to watch the portal while he was gone. Erm, he caught me hanging around, but he figured I came at the right time and if I watched the portal for him and didn't say anything, then he wouldn't say anything about me trespassing. So I agreed and watched the portal for him because I didn't want to get in trouble since they would have fired me if they found me snooping around. I mean, I was just exploring, but they wouldn't really take that…," Ryoma trailed off, feeling more than a little frustrated with himself. There was no expression in Atobe's face, but his gaze was still piercing, and Ryoma couldn't help but blabber while Atobe watched him, especially this close. Didn't the angel know about personal space?

"Wouldn't the guard have been suspicious if he came back and found you gone though?"

"I thought so too, but no pick-up team has arrived so I guess he figured I just decided to leave," Ryoma said.

Atobe eyed Ryoma silently for a few painstaking seconds that made Ryoma sweat, before he huffed. He said derisively, "Demons, leaving only one guard at the portal to all dimensions, how irresponsible." At that, Ryoma had to bite his tongue. He really didn't need to retort that there had been two guards, and Ryoma had just been clever and gone in when one of them had gone to the bathroom.

Atobe straightened and swept imaginary dust off the front of his clothes. "Well, now that that's settled, it's clear what must be done. Kabaji, release the boy."

"Usu." The cage of muscle around Ryoma released him and he looked warily at Atobe.

"Let's go, Demonguest Ryoma," Atobe continued, leading the way again, except this time in the direction they had come from, "We'll just drop you back in your dimension and clear up this whole 'mistake' in no time."

Damn him. Ryoma froze, eyes wide in frustration and panic. "Wait," he said, "Wait. Please."

Atobe paused a few feet away, back still turned to the demon. "Will you talk?" Atobe said, "Ryoma Horio." To his credit, Atobe didn't sound smug at catching Ryoma in his lies, but it was more unnerving that the angel sounded so serious. "You better talk, or there will be consequences, and I suggest you don't lie this time because you are so painfully amateur at it." Ryoma wasn't sure if those consequences would cost him his life, and honestly, he didn't want to find out.

Ryoma was about ready to spill his true identity and get carted back to Hell when a small thought, a bubble of a thought really, erupted from the memory reserves deep in his brain, the same way the idea for running away to Earth had erupted. It was a crazy idea…but...Trust your instincts, Ryoma remembered his father telling him. Closing his eyes briefly in a silent prayer to the Light One, the demon dropped to his knees.

Atobe tilted his head to the side as if he recognized the sound of knees slapping the ground. Then again, he probably did since he was as close as Heaven had to a prince in rank. Ryoma could almost laugh at the irony of the situation if he wasn't so desperate; a prince of Hell on his knees before a prince of Heaven. The Star's mercy, if his old man ever found out, he would never let him live it down.

"I plead for sanctuary," Ryoma said, his voice hushed almost to a whisper. He bowed his head, but the boy couldn't help looking up at Atobe, eyes desperate, as he spoke. "Please, please help me. I have nowhere else to go," Ryoma balled up his hands against the ground, "I'm not a criminal, and not a spy, but I am running from…something…and I need a place to hide. I can't tell you why…I'm sorry," Ryoma finished lamely. With nothing else to say, he watched Atobe's back, which had tensed when he had invoked sanctuary. It was one of the Old Laws. In the past, an exile from another plane pleading sanctuary would be given it if he agreed to be locked up in a safe cell. He would be kept safe, well fed and warm, but he wouldn't be free ever again. Some of the Old Laws were still practiced in Hell, but Ryoma wasn't sure about sanctuary, and he wasn't sure if it was still practiced in Heaven. It was probably more of a custom than anything else now, so Ryoma could only hope that Atobe would grant it to him.

Atobe didn't turn around, and Ryoma didn't know if that was a bad sign or not. "Do you know what you are asking for?" the angel asked, his voice surprisingly harsh.

"Sanctuary," Ryoma repeated stubbornly, and then looked down, biting his lip. "Help me. I'm b-begging you. I have nowhere else to go," Ryoma repeated.

"Please."

Atobe bowed his head for a moment, seemingly in thought. "Your name?" Atobe said in a deceptively soft voice, and he turned around.

"Ryoma," the demon bit out.

"Not Horio?"

"No." Atobe had never heard of the Ryoma family before, but a name was a name, and Atobe's instincts were telling him that this name was real.

"What are you running from?" Atobe said, "Who is following you?" Ryoma felt a brief flash of relief that Atobe let the name issue go for the moment, but Atobe seemed determined to ask difficult questions.

What was he running from? Imprisonment, chains, loss of life and freedom…but saying that would just spark more questions. So, Ryoma gave the only honest answer he could. "My father," he admitted, closing his eyes briefly. It was true; his father would be the first one on his tail after they discovered Ryoma had disappeared, and he would be raising hellfire.

Atobe studied Ryoma's form, and thinking briefly of his own father, asked, "This father, is he chasing you because of a wrong you have committed?"

Finally, a question he could answer! Ryoma shook his head vigorously, "No, I've done nothing," he said truthfully. Atobe's eyes flashed.

"Then, it's something that you must do; something that has been imposed on you?"

"Yes, he's forcing me to—do something…unpleasant. Something wrong," Ryoma said, anger suddenly steeling his face, but it wasn't anger meant for Atobe. Atobe recognized that anger in himself when arguing with his own father, and he realized that Ryoma wasn't all that different from Atobe. Sweeping his eyes across his form, Atobe realized again how small Ryoma was. He was just a boy; a demon, but also a child, and obviously younger than Atobe by more than a few years. There was no hint of the hardened criminal in him; it suddenly seemed ridiculous that such a child could be any kind of danger to Heaven.

"It must be something very unpleasant if you've taken such measures to escape from him," Atobe said.

"Yes," Ryoma admitted, and gloom touched his face, making his countenance look even younger and more pitiful.

Appearances were deceiving though. Could Atobe forgive himself if he allowed a demon to harm Heaven and its inhabitants?

Atobe sighed, and raised a finger to his temple to soothe it. "Demon business is always so tiring." He stepped closer and bent over slightly to face Ryoma's knelt form. Without a trace of his previous gentleness, Atobe asked coldly, "You swear you are no criminal and no spy?"

Ryoma was too startled to feel any relief; at the corner of his eye, he realized Atobe had his hand on the long, elegant sword at his side.

"I swear," Ryoma said.

"You swear you will bring no danger to Heaven? And do not lie, demon, because if you hurt my friends and family, if you harm our realm, I will kill you myself," Atobe promised, and he might as well have had his fingers around Ryoma's throat because Ryoma suddenly couldn't breathe.

Ryoma hoped to the Morning Star that he was telling the truth when he said again, "I swear."

Atobe was still as he searched Ryoma's face for any hint of deception, and then he solemnly said two words that made Ryoma go limp with relief.

"Sanctuary granted."


	2. Chapter 2

In Which Boredom Affects Everyone, Angel and Demon

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><p>Without much ado, Atobe had dropped Ryoma off at his room with an order to get some rest, you look like you're about to fall over.<p>

Ryoma must have been more tired than he expected, because he fell asleep as soon as he hit the covers and woke up hours later. The room was darkened, and Ryoma had to stumble up out of bed to find the light switch. He couldn't tell how late it was, or if it was even nearing morning; outside, it was as dark as his room was.

Finally, his searching fingers found the switch, and Ryoma found his room to be relatively large and plainly decorated. Ryoma sat back down on the bed, still feeling a bit tired despite the sleep he'd gained. Rubbing his eyes, he noticed his covers with a frown. Who had picked such an ugly shade of purple for the bed? "Angels." Ryoma rolled his eyes.

His stomach growled, and Ryoma realized he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. He got up, and also noticed with dismay that he was pretty grimy all over. There was some kind of white sticky residue from the portal, and dirt and slight bloodstains from the scuffle with the guards earlier. The combination made Ryoma itch in a few places, and so he went to the connecting bathroom to take a shower before finding something to eat.

Surprisingly, there was a bath drawn and ready in the tub, and Ryoma remembered the angel lord from before had ordered one to be made for him. 'But how did it stay hot till now?' Ryoma noted the steam rising from the water. Shrugging, (hey, a bath was a bath), Ryoma stripped off his grimy clothes and slipped into the tub. He hissed as the water was still (somehow) piping hot, but as he gradually got used to the heat, and scrubbed himself clean. The warmth of the water moved into his bones, and all too soon, Ryoma was in a state of utter relaxation.

So, no one could really blame him when he fell asleep like that; again, he must have been more tired than he thought.

The second time Ryoma woke up, it was to an odd feeling that he was being watched. Ryoma opened his eyes, realized he must have fallen asleep in the tub, and turned his head.

Next to the tub was an angel.

"Well, this wasn't what I was expecting when Atobe said we had an important guest to escort, but," and here an unholy smile (not unlike Fuji-senpai's, Ryoma realized with a sinking feeling) spread across the angel's lips, "it's very nice view, nonetheless," the angel said lasciviously. Ryoma's eyes followed the angel's gaze to his body, and his mouth dropped in horror as he realized the bubbles from the body wash had dissipated, leaving the water clear. Automatically, Ryoma brought his knees and wrapped his wings tight around his whole form. "Pervert!" he spat.

The angel sniffed. "How rude. It's not as if we were the ones to ignore our knocking, and let us walk in on you in the bathtub."

"What 'we', Mizuki-san? I'm pretty sure he was calling you the pervert," came the disgruntled reply from another angel behind Mizuki, leaning against the door. His face was red and resolutely turned away from Ryoma's form. At least there was one angel that wasn't a pervert like this Mizuki, Ryoma thought to himself.

Ryoma sighed, and snapped, "Well, are you angels going to get out and let me dress?"

"Touchy, touchy," Mizuki tittered, but the two angels calmly trooped out of the bathroom. The other angel was even polite enough to carefully close the door behind them.

Ryoma got out of the water and reached for the towel rack, shivering. The water had long since gone cold; Ryoma must have been asleep for hours. Drying himself off, Ryoma realized with chagrin that he had forgotten to bring in any clothes, but that was because there hadn't been anything to wear in the room. Somehow, (though Ryoma suspected the two angels that appeared), his dirty clothes from before had disappeared too.

Grimacing, Ryoma listened to the sounds of movement from the other room, hoping the two angels would leave before Ryoma came out of the bathroom. He really didn't want to prance around naked in front of the angels; the demon was already feeling vulnerable enough. How stupid had he been to fall asleep in the tub! With agitation, and growing impatience, Ryoma fluttered the damp dark wings behind him.

Amazingly though, there was a click of the front door, and then silence. Ryoma pressed his ear against the bathroom door, wondering if the angels really had left the room. They had been talking pretty loudly before, and although he hadn't been able to make out what they were talking about, they had seemed to be bickering. Now, their voices were gone, and the room on the other side of the door was silent.

Ryoma cracked open the door, the towel he'd used wrapped tight around his body. He didn't see anyone. With relief, Ryoma opened the door the whole way, and almost shut the door again at who he saw sitting on the bed.

It was Atobe, lounged almost imperiously against the pillows.

Ryoma scowled. "What are you doing here?" he said.

"My father owns this tower, so you should probably treat your host with more respect," Atobe replied. Either he didn't notice Ryoma's lack of clothing, or he didn't care, because his arrogant eyes strayed no farther than his face.

"Hnn," Ryoma said, and awkwardly stood at the bathroom door, unwilling to walk into the room with Atobe in it.

If he had looked closely though, he might have noticed that Atobe looked just as uncomfortable to be there.

"Are you hungry?" Atobe asked.

As if on cue, Ryoma's stomach whined, and he reddened, looking down at it in betrayal.

Atobe smirked and stood up. "Well then, Ore-sama will wait for you outside. Come out when you are decent."

He left behind him on the bed clean clothes in Ryoma's size.

Outside the demon's room, Yuuta asked, "Will he come to breakfast then, Atobe-san?"

"Yes, he is changing right now."

"He is quite a delectable little boy, isn't he? Just my type," Mizuki mused, tapping at his chin with a finger as he thought back to the vision of Ryoma in the tub.

Atobe glared, making both lesser angels flinch. "You forget, he is still a demon, 'delectable' or not, and he is an official guest of Heaven. You will not touch him," Atobe ordered frostily.

"Yes, Lord Atobe," both Mizuki and Yuuta intoned, although Yuuta subtly kicked Mizuki in the leg.

Atobe's sudden anger diffused, and he lamented, "I am surrounded by commoners." Inside though, an image of Ryoma's scantily clad form flashed across his eyes. Even for someone with impeccable manners like Atobe couldn't fail to notice how Ryoma's collarbones stuck out and how the rest of his body was all pale, smooth skin.

'What am I thinking of? Get a hold of yourself! Only lesser angels would be so distracted by a pretty body,' and Atobe forced the image away.

When Ryoma slipped out of the room, dressed in the traditional angel styled simple tunic and pants, his wings damp and folded against his back, Atobe led him to the dining hall for breakfast. He talked as they walked; Atobe in the lead, Ryoma behind him, and the two other angels in the very back.

"These two are Mizuki Hajime and Fuji Yuuta, your two angelguards and guides," Ryoma glanced back and realized for the first time that both of the angels were armed, "They will be with you at all times during your stay in Heaven for your protection and comfort. As you probably already know, this is the sixth tower of the Council, known as the Atobe Tower, or otherwise known as the Violet Tower. For your own safety, you are not to leave the Tower at any time since the angel population doesn't know of your arrival yet. Usually, a demonguest is announced at least a few weeks before their arrival. You," Atobe glanced at Ryoma, "...were a bit of a surprise."

"I'll bet," Ryoma said blandly.

Atobe continued, "My father is away at the annual Assembly and will be returning in a few short days. The Assembly is too important to cancel, so it has been ordered that your visit be kept quiet until the Council is ready to make a decision on your situation." Atobe went on to explain the places Ryoma was allowed to roam, when mealtimes would be and so on, but Ryoma quickly lost interest after that and let Atobe's voice fade into the background.

Before too long, Atobe was demanding, "Are you even listening to Ore-sama?"

Ryoma snapped back to attention with an intelligent, "Huh?"

Atobe raised his eyes to the ceiling in the universal prayer for patience.

"Enough, maybe you will focus better with food in your stomach," Atobe decided.

Ryoma's stomach rumbled at the mention of food, and he quickly glanced up to see if Atobe heard it. Thankfully, it seemed the angel hadn't. Ryoma held his hand to his stomach and silently begged it to stay quiet until they got to the food.

Unnoticed, Atobe let a small smirk touch his mouth.

The Violet Tower was a place where angels lived and worked day and night. It was gigantic, two hundred stories high (with four stories below ground), and far enough across that if an angel tried to run straight along its diameter they would run out of breath before reaching the other side.

Ryoma was pleased to note that it wasn't as large as the palace at home, close, but still not there yet.

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma whispered, his breath making the window fog up. The window was small, not even large enough to fly through, so Ryoma felt like he was in a jail cell.

Ryoma, hearing the bickering outside his room, figured he might as well have been in a jail cell. He wasn't allowed to do anything, and he was constantly under watch by his two "bodyguards". Ryoma knew what they were really assigned to do; they were watching him to make sure he didn't do anything suspicious while in their angeltower.

As if he could really cause much damage by himself.

Ryoma had been left to himself for two days, and his two guards had followed him anytime he went anywhere else. Ryoma was bored, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was lonely as well. He had always been surrounded by either friends or family at home, whether he liked it or not. Here, Ryoma had no one. The purple angelguard always made perverted remarks when he was around. The younger-looking one with the bad scar just ignored Ryoma, like talking to a demon would corrupt him or something. At least he had intelligent conversation with Atobe, as haughty as the angel lord was, but Atobe hadn't even eaten breakfast with him a couple days ago. He just laid down rules, dropped him off at the dining hall and left. Ryoma hadn't seen him since.

Not that he missed him or anything.

Ryoma also needed to find a way to Earth quickly, preferably before this so called angel Council showed up. They would probably ask more pesky questions.

Ryoma eyed the window speculatively.

It really was too small for anyone to pass through, but Ryoma had always been small for his age….

"Mizuki-san, you really should be more serious about this," Yuuta said, holding his head.

"What? I'm just showing you the full scope of my outfit. I spent hours arranging it myself, isn't it just fabulous?" Mizuki said with a twirl, purple sequins flowed in the air behind him. Yuuta didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Sometimes, he was sure that the only reason Atobe hired Mizuki was because of his fondness for anything in the Atobe colors.

"This shirt alone cost over a hundred silvers," Mizuki complained, "The threading came from the Rikkai region, absolutely exquisite."

"Mmhm," Yuuta nodded absently. He was already retreating into his happy place.

"See, the pants? I already have some black pants at home, but I didn't have this shade of black, blue onyx they called it." Speaking of black, Yuuta wondered what the demon was doing at that moment. He had spent the last couple days cooped up in his room, not that there was anywhere else to go since he was restricted to this floor.

Yuuta wondered if he was bored. The boy had talked a little, questions mostly, which Yuuta had pushed over to Mizuki-san. For his own part, he was at a loss at what to say around the boy. The boy…no, Ryoma, wasn't like any demon Yuuta had read about in school. In their textbooks, they had learned that demons were mischief-loving troublemakers, and while not exactly evil, they weren't good-hearted either. They pillaged and plundered and wrought all kinds of havoc for no good reason.

Ryoma was quiet. He said little, and what little he said was snarky. He kept to himself, and watched everyone and everything with observant eyes, except in the mornings when he just woke up and he wandered out of his room rubbing at his eyes like a child. Yuuta stifled a smile as he remembered the heavy-lidded eyes and the drowsy snap at Mizuki-san that morning when Mizuki-san had tried to molest him again. Mizuki-san did try to molest their demonguest often.

Yuuta frowned at the other angel. "Mizuki-san…," Yuuta said, making him look up from his rambling, "If you go out on another date, could you refrain from touching the demon?"

Mizuki smirked. "Perhaps," he said, "Does it really bother you that much, Yuuta-kun? If you're feeling jealous, I could touch you too."

Yuuta gagged. "No, thank you, Mizuki-san!"

Mizuki pouted. "You're no fun."

"Please restrain yourself a little," Yuuta said with a sigh, "I can see that it makes our demonguest uncomfortable. He's still a child after all."

"Fine," Mizuki acceded with a sniff, "But that means I'll be gone for the rest of the day and night until tomorrow!"

Yuuta grimaced at the thought of another sleepless night, but said, "Deal. Have fun on your date, Mizuki-san."

Mizuki smiled. "Oh, I will. There's this absolutely lovely restaurant that we're going to tonight, and afterwards, with a few chocolates and wine…." This was about the moment that Yuuta plugged up his ears and stopped listening completely.

Mukahi Gakuto leaned back in his chair, making it tip precariously. It was one of those lucky days that they didn't have lessons, as their tutor had come down with a cold, but unfortunately, there was nothing to do. Since Atobe's father was at the Assembly, Atobe was stuck holding down the tower, so they couldn't even travel to Earth for fun, not that traveling to Earth was allowed, but Hyotei brats always got away with it. Everyone in Hyotei who was anybody had snuck into Earth at least once, and Gakuto could still remember the first time he had gone to the strange realm. No one there had any wings so he had had to hide his wings to blend in. The food had also been strange too, but it was tasty, and wonderfully varied.

Thinking of Earth food always made Gakuto crave sweet things, so he asked the angel sitting beside him, "Hey, Yuushi, you got anything sweet?"

Oshitari Yuushi, his partner in crime since they were Hyotei students together, dutifully pulled out a lollipop from his pocket without taking his eyes away from his book.

"Thanks, Yuushi!" Gakuto beamed as he took the lollipop and promptly stuck it in his mouth. "I'm bored to tears. Can't we do something?"

"Do what? Think up something first before asking us to entertain you," said Shishido, already grumpy since Ohtori was out finishing errands with Hiyoshi. He was pretty boring these days because he couldn't seem to do anything without Ohtori there, and even with the younger angel around he turned into a big softie and they made goo goo eyes at each other like no other! Gakuto hoped he never acted like that when he got in a relationship, although they profusely denied they were in any kind of romantic relationship. Bah, Gakuto had eyes, and anyone could see that those two would end up with each other one way or another.

Although for the moment, they were just very sickening.

"Don't be pissy at me just 'cause Ohtori's out and about without you," Gakuto drawled around his lollipop.

Shishido flushed. "Why you!"

"Hmph," Gakuto sniffed and turned his attention back to Yuushi. "Yuushi, why are you reading? We don't have lessons today," Gakuto whined.

"It's not that kind of reading, Gakuto, and there's not much else to do anyways. Not this close to the Assembly, at least," Oshitari replied over his book.

"Ugh, there must be something to do! Where's Jirou anyway?" Gakuto could at least find entertainment in playing with their sleepiest friend if nothing else.

"He's sleeping in, of course."

"If you are so bored, Mukahi, go fly around the Tower a few times," Atobe said suddenly from his seat beside the window a little ways away. The other angels looked over at Atobe in surprise.

"Well, what do you know? He's alive," Shishido said.

Atobe looked slightly affronted. "What are you going on about?"

"You realize this is the first time today that you've said a full sentence?" Oshitari said as he finally put down his book. "You didn't even bother to admire your reflection earlier when those maids passed by with the new mirror for the bathroom."

"The one we broke?" Shishido muttered to Gakuto, who shook his head and raised a finger to his lips.

"I've been contemplating," Atobe said.

"Really?"

Gakuto laughed. "Contemplating what? Your new haircut?"

Atobe gave him a chill look. "Mukahi, fifty laps around the tower."

Gakuto shrieked, "What! You can't do that! We're not at school anymore!"

"Seventy," Atobe said unforgivingly.

"You—!"

Oshitari tittered. "Calm down, the both of you. Gakuto, stop pestering Atobe unless you want him to make you fly laps around the entire city like last time," Gakuto gulped and shied away, "Atobe, what have you been contemplating so severely all day? No, actually, you've been awfully preoccupied yesterday as well. This wouldn't have anything to do with our special guest would it?" Oshitari asked, the sunlight from the window flashing off his glasses and hiding his eyes at the last part. Everyone suspected he did that on purpose just to look mysterious.

"Not exactly," Atobe said shortly, not willing to say too much. In truth, he was thinking about the demon and his father; his deal with the former, his fight with the latter, and overall if he had made the right choices the past few days.

Oshitari, having known Atobe for a while, and having been present for all the events that had taken place that week, had a good idea of what Atobe was thinking about. Atobe had told him earlier how the demon had invoked the Old Law of sanctuary, which was very clever since Atobe had always had a respect for the ancient laws, even if they weren't practiced much in Heaven anymore. Heaven had become more modernized since the God and Lucifer had disappeared, some thought to Earth.

"You know he is a demonguest," Oshitari pointed out, "You can visit him whenever you want."

Atobe frowned. "Why on Heaven would I want to visit him?"

"Well, you're curious aren't you? I would be. It's not as if we often get such a chance to talk to a demon face to face, especially one that's close in age to us," Oshitari said.

"He's just a child," Atobe said, and then felt the thoughtlessness of his answer. Looking up, he found Yuushi's eyes gleaming at him in humor. Infuriating angel, Atobe thought as his eyes narrowed.

"If you're not going to see him, why don't you let us, huh?" Mukahi said eagerly, as he hadn't actually talked to a demon before neither. He had seen the demonking before a few times, but only from a distance. "We could ask him what Hell is like, and what other demons are like, and if they actually eat their own offspring like in that one movie."

Shishido's eyes lit up. "The movie from Earth right? With that demon princess in leather?"

"Careful, I wouldn't mention that around Ohtori," Mukahi teased.

"Shut up, redhead," Shishido said, but his eyes flashed up to the door just in case Choutarou walked in. Ohtori Choutarou grew up in a very strict family, so he was always wary about rule-breaking, which wasn't a good thing when they were constantly surrounded by rich upper level angels with little to no respect for the rules, cough-Atobe-cough. Plane-hopping was one of their activities that Choutarou often avoided.

With a patient smile, Oshitari said, "They don't actually eat their own offspring, Gakuto, that was just in the movie. That, and I doubt the demon will tell us too much about his realm, because they're always rather touchy with information."

"How do you know?" Gakuto retorted for the sake of arguing.

"Well, the demonking spoke very little of Hell, have you noticed? The times he's been here, he made sure to say only a few repeated descriptions. For all we know, Hell might really be as flaming hot with constantly active volcanoes as the books say," said Oshitari.

"Or it might be a winter wonderland," Shishido countered.

"Precisely."

"Well, Atobe? How about it, can we see him?" Mukahi demanded, impatient for something interesting to replace the day's stifling boredom.

Atobe opened his mouth, and then closed it to take in the expecting and hopeful eyes of the group; even Oshitari looked interested by the prospect of speaking to a real demon. He had been about to refuse, but…

"Maybe later," Atobe allowed. Immediately, Mukahi started whining and Shishido backed him up.

Oshitari returned to his book, a hint of a smile gracing his face. Later for Atobe meant later; in other words, he had just given them permission to see the demon boy in due time.

Oshitari couldn't wait.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa Jirou was still fast asleep out on the balcony, where he had set up camp the night before with his blankets and his bear Kuma-chan. Keigo told him not to sleep outside, but what was the use of this nice balcony if he didn't use it?

In his dreams, Jirou was with his family up in the high mountains that edged the Hyotei region. Despite the chill, Jirou had always been able to fall asleep outside, and usually he lost himself in a snow drift. Jirou had always loved their winter home the best; it was even better than their hot spring summer home. Currently, his mother was forcing wing warmers on his younger sister so they didn't freeze outside. She shouldn't have taken a shower and gotten them wet before they went out, but what was done was done, and Jirou laughed and went over to help his mother persuade the warmers on her. His older brother was already outside and waiting with their father. They argued about something, they were always arguing, and Jirou could hear them getting louder. Why did everyone argue so much, Jirou sighed to himself. Keigo was always arguing with his father too. Keigo…Jirou frowned, was he forgetting something?

"Up!" Jirou looked down, and saw his younger sister raise her arms toward him. "Up!" she cried again. Smiling, Jirou reached down to pick her up, but the youngster rambunctiously jumped into his arms, her wings flapping furiously. "Woah!" Jirou exclaimed, surprised because his sister was a lot heavier than he remembered, and the breath was knocked out of his lungs. She was so heavy! Jirou really couldn't breathe.

His little sister groaned, voice much deeper than he remembered too. Jirou coughed, trying to get his breath back.

Then, he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw were the black feathers, so black they seemed to suck the light out of the air. They looked temptingly soft, like velvet, so Jirou's first thought was to touch them. Then, Jirou realized that not all the black was feathers, but some hair as well, hair that was attached in soft tufts to a small head, a small head that was attached to a young boy, a young boy that was on top of him. It took a few blinks for Jirous's sleep-ridden eyes to open fully and comprehend what he was seeing.

The demon groaned again and raised his head off Jirou's chest, and his dazed amber eyes rolled around before focusing on Jirou.

Jirou wiggled his fingers, and said cheerfully, "Hello."

* * *

><p>Three things Ryoma learned about Akutagawa Jirou: first, he was easily amused.<p>

"Wow, they're sooooo black," Jirou wondered over the black wing in his hands. Ryoma tried not to twitch and send the wing in his face, even though Jirou's roaming fingers tickled.

Second, Jirou was easily excited.

Jirou hadn't stopped bouncing since Ryoma had told him he was a demon from Hell. "Does that mean you have dragons and monsters and stuff?" Jirou said like a kid in a candy store asking for lollipops.

Ryoma's eyebrow twitched. "Dragons yes, monsters no," he said shortly. Wait for it.

Jirou exploded, "Coooool!" Ryoma sighed.

Third, Jirou was easily drowsed.

The demon couldn't believe it, the angel had fallen asleep on him again! Ryoma pushed Jirou's snoring face away from his ear, but the angel was too heavy to completely push off. Jirou mumbled something unintelligible and drooled a bit on Ryoma's shirt.

Lovely. Ryoma pouted.

* * *

><p>Since Jirou-san had found him some snacks earlier from the kitchen, Ryoma wasn't hungry for dinner and skipped it. Unfortunately, the results of him skipping dinner left him hungry and grumpy sometime late that night.<p>

Stomach growling, Ryoma finally gave up on sleep and sat up in bed. He glanced over at the window and wondered whether he should ask Jirou-san for more food. Nah, climbing out the tiny window had been scary enough. There were no good handholds anywhere outside the window, so Ryoma had a hard time not falling with his wings under his shirt. He was smart enough not to go flying out with black wings and expect the angels not to notice. He was lucky enough that no one spotted him climbing out his window. After he had squeezed out, he had attempted to climb up by stepping on the narrow window frame, but he forgot about how strong the winds would be so high up the building and ended up slipping and falling right on top of Jirou, who was sleeping on his balcony the floor below. He had been lucky then. Now that it was dark outside and the winds were probably stronger, Ryoma didn't want to take the chance.

Sighing, Ryoma decided to just ask his guards for food. They wouldn't be happy, but they stayed awake all night anyways. Ryoma had learned that the hard way when he tried to escape a night ago.

The demon opened the door. He didn't see anyone outside.

"Wha—?" Ryoma stepped out and jumped when something beside him moved. It was the young looking angelguard, slumped over and fast asleep next to the doorway. His head had tilted to the side in his sleep when Ryoma walked out. Ryoma bent over the angel, and waved a hand in front of his face. The soft, shallow breaths continued uninterrupted.

Ryoma grinned, and silent as a ghost, he closed the door behind him and slipped away.

Earlier, Jirou-san had gotten him some food from the kitchen using a box called the elevator. Ryoma hadn't actually ridden it himself, but he knew where it was and what the code to use it was, courtesy of Jirou-san._ "It's only supposed to be used by a few angels, but just in case, now you can use it," Jirou said with a wink._ Ryoma found the elevator, and got on with a silent thanks to Jirou-san. He wouldn't waste this opportunity to explore for the portal, but he needed to get some food first. This late at night, no one should be near the kitchens. Just in case though, Ryoma tucked his wings under his shirt and folded them against his back. He even pulled his pants over the loose tail ends so they didn't stick out.

Riding the elevator was a strange experience to say the least. He didn't know where the angels got an idea for a large metal box that floated between floors; frankly, he preferred the flywell because the box's vertigo made him a little nauseous. Getting off at the floor Jirou had specified, Ryoma breathed a huge sigh of relief that he hadn't died in the metal trap. He was sure that any moment the box would fall with him trapped inside it.

The floor he had gotten off at was up near the top of the tower, farther up than his or Jirou-san's floor. Ryoma didn't know why they made a kitchen so high, because wouldn't it be a hassle to get food to the rest of the tower?

Since Jirou-san didn't say exactly where the kitchen was, Ryoma had to look for it within the floor. He was surprised to find stairs, an enormous gilded staircase that connected this floor to a couple others farther up, as in the palace at home. Ryoma eyed the long gleaming banister of the staircase and promised himself he would come back to it later. For now, he had to find food.

In his search of the floor, he found a dining room like the one he used a few floors below, and a sitting room with comfortably plushy couches and a tea table. Finally, when he went past the sitting room and found the kitchen, which was wonderfully large, and his quick eyes eagerly sought out the also gloriously large refrigerator. In no time, Ryoma was chugging milk straight out the bottle.

A noise made him stop short. There were soft sounds, deliberate and rhythmic; they were steps. Eyes widening, Ryoma nearly tripped over himself trying to find some place to hide. He rushed behind the open door of the kitchen just spare moments before someone walked in.

Ryoma held his hand over his mouth and tried to squeeze himself to become as small and unnoticeable as he could into the wall behind him. When the angel walked through and past the door, and Ryoma got a fleeting glimpse of the angel's hair, he gasped behind his hand.

Impossibly, Atobe stopped as if he had heard him. Although Ryoma hadn't made any sound at all.

Then there was a contemplative "Hmm," and Ryoma realized with rising dread that he had left the milk bottle out on the counter; uncapped, half-empty, a few spilt drops on the side.

Atobe made an impatient sound, and then there were sounds of him wetting a cloth and wiping up the mess. Ryoma was vaguely amazed that Atobe knew how to clean, and then would deign to use that knowledge.

After that, Atobe got out a glass of water and started to drink it slowly. Ryoma listened to the near-silent swallows of his throat around the water, and visualized how his Adam's apple must have been bobbing up and down. Ryoma had yet to see Atobe doing something like a living, breathing creature, and not like an angel-shaped statue, until now (in a matter of speaking). So Ryoma was a bit fascinated with the sounds of Atobe eating and drinking; the few times he had seen the angel lord, he had been so poised and composed around him it was frustrating. Now, there was the definite crunch of biscuits. Ryoma's stomach rumbled silently in protest, and his mouth watered as Atobe continued munching away on biscuits. He was getting hungrier just listening. Ryoma hoped the angel left soon; his sharp nose was starting to pick up the smell of the biscuits from the air.

Before too long though, the biscuit-crunching ended, and after another swallow of water, Atobe was done. He walked towards the doorway, and Ryoma braced himself, hoping the angel wouldn't see him in the crack of where the door was hinged to the wall. He needn't have worried about that. This was Atobe.

Atobe never walked past far enough to see Ryoma through the hinged crack; he stopped right in front of the doorway, where he slammed the door shut, revealing Ryoma's hiding form.

Ryoma stared at the angel, speechless.

Atobe folded his arms, gave him a look up and down, and said casually, "Demon, what are you doing this fine evening? On my floor, in my kitchen?"

'Jirou-san could have mentioned this was Atobe's kitchen,' Ryoma's mind thought spitefully. To Atobe, he said simply and honestly, "I was hungry."

"Is that so? Then I suppose that is your milk on the counter."

Ryoma nodded. "I was hungry," he said again.

Atobe's eyes narrowed. "How did you find this place? And where are your guards?"

Ryoma didn't want to get Jirou-san or his sleeping angelguard in trouble, so he shrugged. "I got bored and while I was exploring I found this kitchen."

Atobe pressed, eyebrow arched, "Your guards?"

Ryoma shrugged again, stubbornly. "Hey, how did you know I was here?" Ryoma suddenly demanded.

Atobe held up a small tuft of a black feather, and drawled, "It wasn't exactly such a puzzle, and don't change the subject. Where are your guards?"

"I don't know. I lost them; I'm sneaky like that," Ryoma smirked.

Atobe touched a finger delicately to his forehead to wave away an oncoming headache. He had only wanted a midnight snack and this was what he walked into.

Atobe motioned to the door wearily. "Well, come along then. You will return to your room and your guards will be disposed of and replaced."

Ryoma's breath caught in his throat. "Disposed of"? There were demons that were cruel enough to see life as something to be toyed with, but Ryoma had thought by the angels' holier-than-thou attitude that they were different. Apparently, he was wrong.

Ryoma shook his head and dodged Atobe's arm to sit himself on a stool in the kitchen.

"No, I'm hungry," Ryoma said resolutely, determined not to let Atobe take him back to his room yet. He would at least give the guards some time to escape for their lives. Like he did as a child with the palace cooks, he ordered petulantly, "Feed me."

Atobe hissed in annoyance. "You are testing my patience, child."

Ryoma's eyes flashed. "I am not a child!" he said in a sudden rise of anger, "I'm probably less than half a century younger than you!"

"Really?" Atobe huffed in disbelief, and an eyebrow raised mockingly, "I am two hundred twelve summers. How old are you?"

Ryoma looked triumphant. "A hundred and fifty five, only about half a century younger as I said." At that, Atobe barked a laugh.

"Impossible! You look like you're barely ninety!"

Ryoma gave a horrified retort, "I do not!"

Atobe gave a flip of his oddly violet-grey hair. "Please, boy, learn from Ore-sama. If you're going to lie, make it believable. You could be a hundred and ten, maybe."

Eye twitching in annoyance, Ryoma looked around for the first attack missile and spotted the leftover biscuits. Atobe didn't know what hit him.

Whap! The biscuit fell to the floor in two crumbly pieces and broke into more upon contact with the smooth marble. The angel reached up with trembling fingers and brushed a few crumbs off his forehead, his face marked in stone. Atobe closed his eyes for patience; this wasn't the first time he wanted to hit someone, but it was the first time it had happened without someone around to do it for him. Breaking, Atobe advanced on the young demon with a growl, "How dare you."

Ryoma, on instinct, forced his wings to spread. They tore out of his shirt and curved around him in a semi-sphere. Atobe looked startled at the sudden shield. Using the element of surprise, Ryoma was about to throw a gust of wind at the angel and then take off, but just as his wings bent, a horribly severe muscle spasm stiffened the left one. Ryoma lost balance and fell forward, stumbling with a cry of pain. His right wing flapped uselessly alone and only managed to brush Atobe's hair back.

Atobe's eyes narrowed and a hand reached out for Ryoma. "Don't!" Defensively, Ryoma jumped back, clutching at his left wing, but Atobe jumped in front of him, his own wings spread for a burst of speed. Before Ryoma could run, the angel grabbed him.

"Let go!" the demon exclaimed.

"Calm, calm, boy," Atobe ordered as he held down Ryoma's shoulders to keep him still. Ryoma's right wing was still flapping weakly at his side. "Calm down. I will not harm you, so be still!" Atobe snapped irritably, and Ryoma shuddered, but stilled in his grasp. The demon breathed hard, every muscle tense. He was too aware of how much taller and stronger the angel was than him. His right wing continued its feeble flapping, as if weakly protesting Atobe's proximity.

Deft fingers felt the left wing, (Ryoma closed his eyes at the sensation) and through the soft jungle of black feathers, found the large knot that was paining the boy. They began to massage it, softly at first. "Relax, or it's going to hurt more," Atobe informed the boy, "Loosen your muscles. What did you do to this wing? It's horribly knotted," he tsked. The angel's reprimanding sounded astonishingly like his mother's, and Ryoma relaxed into his touch despite himself.

"I slept on it wrong," Ryoma mumbled, trying not to whimper when Atobe massaged a particularly tight part of the muscle. He didn't want to say that he had bent part of the wing when he fell on Jirou-san earlier. Who knew if Jirou-san would be "disposed of" too?

"It figures Ore-sama would be stuck laboring over a demon this time at night, when all Ore-sama wanted were some provisions from the kitchen," Atobe commented with an all-suffering sigh.

Ryoma bristled. "I didn't ask for your help. And stop referring to yourself like that, you sound like an idiot."

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Your wing is in my hands, do you really want to test me?"

"See, now that wasn't so hard was it?" Ryoma smirked, making Atobe glower.

"Brat," he said.

"Bighead," Ryoma countered.

"Midget."

Ryoma narrowed his eyes. "Don't go there."

"Oh, found a weak spot, have we?"

"You are such a—ugh," Ryoma gave up, and they lapsed into silence as Atobe continued to massage his wing. It was surprisingly serene; except for them, it seemed as if the whole world were asleep.

Atobe's fingers were gentler than expected, and they worked over the wing steadfastly until the wing muscle was mush in his hands. By the time Atobe had finished, the wing was limp in his grasp, and Ryoma had leaned forward into Atobe's space, his cheek lightly brushing his left shoulder. Atobe had been massaging the top half of the wing, so one of his arms was around and behind Ryoma's head to reach it. If someone had walked in they would have thought the two were in a lovers' embrace. Cautiously, Atobe let go of the wing.

Almost glowing in the kitchen lights, the black wing feathers shone a brilliant emerald when he tilted his head the right way. This close, he couldn't resist brushing his fingers across them. They were so different from his own, which were plain white, and white still when in the light.

Ryoma raised his head tiredly, as if coming out of a trance, and at the motion Atobe turned his head towards him. He miscalculated how close they were, and their noses brushed tenderly.

They both froze in surprise. All traces of sleepiness disappeared from Ryoma's face.

Ryoma's golden gaze filled his eyes, and his lips…Atobe realized that the warmth against his lips was from the heat of Ryoma's. Their lips, slowly, brushed just as tenderly as their noses had, but no pressure made the action definite. Ryoma's eyes fluttered closed. At the sight, Atobe shuddered, and remembering himself, pulled away, taking a hasty step back.

"Y-You…," Atobe stuttered, actually stuttered, before he trailed off, at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life. Ryoma carefully, almost contemplatively touched a finger to his lips. Their gazes met once more.

It was as if they were seeing each other for the first time.

* * *

><p>AN: There! Written half a year ago, and uploaded today, unbeta-ed and unedited, because I trust my past self to have not made it that bad. Might be continued, or it might not. Maddening, isn't it? Welcome to my world X(<p>

Sincerely, your poor writer's-block-addled friend


	3. Author's Note, (don't you hate these?)

This story is now discontinued. Apologies to people who liked it.

On the plus side, the remake and continuation is called "Middle Ground" and can be found on my profile. Basically my writing style changed so it would have been ridiculous to keep this story going in a completely different manner.

Try "Middle Ground". Trust me, it's a much lighter read.


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